


Tu Eres Mi Corazón

by 13Vivacious13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Lance is a dork, also a tiny bit of shallura, body horror and violence, but only in chapter 9, pidgance, pidge doesn't speak spanish, plance, they're both pining idiots honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13Vivacious13/pseuds/13Vivacious13
Summary: Pidge doesn't speak Spanish. Lance finds out and decides to use it to his advantage. Both are terrible at communicating their feelings.





	1. Pequeña

It started with a stubbed toe.

“Chingada Madre!” Lance hissed, plopping on the very couch whose offending corner he had bashed his foot against. Pidge looked up from her datapad and winced in commiseration as he pulled off his sock, revealing an already purpling pinky toe.

“I bet Coran has something for that,” Pidge said, leaning closer to inspect his foot. The toe didn’t look broken, thank goodness. Lance already got injured enough on missions. “At the very least, we can scrounge up some ice.”

Lance looked up at her, smiling, and Pidge realized their noses were almost touching. She carefully leaned back a bit, not wanting to intrude in his personal space. With a classic cheezy grin Lance made a show of curling his biceps. “Nah, I’m tough enough to survive this.”

Pidge snorted, gently shoving at his shoulder. “Whatever, you big baby.”

Lance huffed good-naturedly and slipped his sock back on. “At least I can reach the top shelf, pequeña.”

“I… what did you call me?”

Lance cocked his head, regarding her for a long moment. “You don’t know any Spanish?”

Pidge thought about it. She had taken all of two day’s worth of Spanish classes in high school before the insufferable and bipolar Sra. Cortez had driven her to switch to French. “I can count to ten, and I know Cinco de Mayo means the Fifth of May.”

“You don’t know any Spanish,” Lance concluded. He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, his grin curving up into a sly crook. It was the same grin he’d given her many a time back at the Garrison, and it never boded well. He started sauntering out of the room.

“Hey! Tell me what pec- peckina means!” Pidge demanded, half-standing.

Lance paused at the doorway, his lips pursed in thought. Shrugging, he turned back to her. “I guess I’ll give you this one.”

_This one?_

“Pequeña means ‘shorty’, shorty.”

Pidge threw a pillow at him and he ran out of the room cackling.


	2. Pollita

She’d figured it would be a one-time thing, just more of the friendly banter they’d always had. Lance seemed to think differently.

“Here’s that wrench you were looking for, pequeñita.”

“Hey güera, have you seen Hunk? I need to ask him something.”

“Yeah, well some of us might have slept through chemistry _and_ biology, tramposa.”

He seemed to have an endless supply of nicknames for her. Nicknames that he absolutely refused to explain. It made comebacks so much more of a struggle when she had no idea how to respond. She wished, not for the first time, that Keith hadn’t left. He always had a few good zingers lined up for Lance.

Dragging a hand down her face, Pidge irritably closed the star map she’d been studying. It wasn’t that she _minded it_ , per se. Judging by Lance’s friendly - possibly even fond - attitude, he wasn’t insulting her. She just…

Well, she was curious! She was the Green Paladin for a reason, dammit!

She turned at the sound of footsteps coming up behind her. It was Hunk. He grinned and pointed over his shoulder.

“I made some gingersnaps. Remember that planet with the purple ocean, Raazgel? The locals gave me some spices that taste a lot like ginger and cinnamon, so I experimented a bit and I think they turned out pretty good.”

Pidge intertwined her fingers and stretched, rising to her toes to maximize the pleasant sensation. “A snack break sounds great.” 

* * *

 

Lance joined them a few minutes later in the kitchen, his nose twitching excitedly. “Are those…?”

Hunk nodded.

Whooping, Lance nearly tackled Hunk to the ground before grabbing at one of the greenish-grey cookies that looked unappealing but tasted amazing. Pidge grinned, watching his face as he took the first bite. His eyes rolled up and he slumped across the counter, dramatically rolling off and landing at Pidge’s feet.

“I’m in heaven~” he mumbled, stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

Feeling rather generous, Pidge grabbed another cookie and waved it in front of his face. He accepted it with a smile that made her stomach twist in a delightful way. “You’re the best, pollita.”

Hunk’s eyes widened in surprise and he choked down the last bite of his cookie, coughing and scrabbling for a water packet. Pidge narrowed her eyes. She waited until Hunk had cleared his throat before asking, a bit sharply, “Hunk, do you know Spanish?”

She sensed rather than saw Lance freeze.

_Gotcha._

“I…” Hunk fidgeted, unable to look her in the face.

Pidge pressed on. “Do you?”

Lance scrambled to his feet, hovering just behind her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him gesturing wildly, but when she turned to look his hands were dangling at his side.

“Uh, no… I don’t know any Spanish,” Hunk said slowly even as his eyes flickered from Lance to Pidge and back again rapidly. “Lance does though.”

“I’m well aware. Are you sure you don’t know?” Pidge clasped her hands together, blinking her eyes imploringly. For a moment Hunk looked like he might break, but then she saw him look back at Lance and knew all hope was lost.

“Yeah, I mean, I know how to say ‘hi’ and 'where’s the bathroom?’ but that’s about it.”

Repressing a growl, Pidge snatched the last cookie from the plate and shoved into in her mouth, glaring at the traitor all the while.

Fine. She’d figure it out on her own.

* * *

 Hunk waited until Pidge left the kitchen before glaring at Lance.

“You’re an idiot.”

Lance was indignant. "Hey!"

_“Just ask her!”_

Lance deflated, leaning against the counter and letting his shoulders slump. “Easy for you to say. Shay’s the one who asked you out.”

Hunk blushed and held up a hand. “One, pulling my beautiful girlfriend into this is a dirty move. Two, this should be the easiest thing in the world for you!”

Pink-cheeked, Lance ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well… Pidge isn’t like any girl I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll say, you didn’t even know she was a girl until she told you.”

“Shut up!” He landed a half-hearted punch on Hunk’s shoulder. “I’m just- I’m working my way up to it, okay?!”

Hunk groaned and covered his face with both hands. He had a feeling this was going to get a lot sillier before it got better.


	3. Hermosa

“Couldn’t we just wear our paladin armor?” Pidge asked, gingerly pawing through the dresses hanging in Allura’s enormous walk-in wardrobe. All of them looked too big and too ornate and too… princessy for her.

Said princess swept by her, rifling through another section with determination. “I’m afraid not, the Lormaitians take etiquette very seriously. If we were to show up to the ball in our armor, it would show a lack of respect.” Allura turned to look at Pidge, her expression serious. “We need to make a good impression. Access to Lormai’s defensive technology would-”

“-be invaluable to the Coalition, I know princess,” Pidge finished with a sigh. The Lormai had developed shield generators of such magnitude that their entire planet was protected from all but the most powerful warships the Galra could throw at them. These shields, along with Lormai's location on the fringes of the Galra Empire, were the reason why their planet had not yet been conquered. Pidge was itching to get her hands on the tech. She was already thinking of ways to apply it to the lions, or better yet, the castle. It’d be nice to get through one fight without the castle’s particle barrier breaking.

Her tech fantasy was broken by Allura placing a bundle of green fabric in her arms. “Try this on, I think it will fit.”

Pidge sighed and slouched over to the changing room adjacent to Allura’s closet. She quickly took off her glasses and changed into the dress, struggling for a moment with the heavy, velvety fabric. Once everything was in the right place she inspected herself in the wall-length mirror.

The dress was gorgeous; a forest green, gold accented, high-waisted affair with a v-neck collar that bore the Voltron symbol. Taking a moment to make sure Allura wasn’t watching, Pidge spun a couple times to see how the skirt and her wide sleeves flared out.

It’d been so long since she’d worn a dress. She’d forgotten how nice it was.

“How is it?” Allura asked, peeking her head in. Her eyes gleamed with delight and she clasped her hands together. “Oh, Pidge! You look lovely!”

Blushing a bit, Pidge grinned and ducked her head. “It’s a beautiful dress,” she said, looking back at her reflection.

“And you make it even prettier.” Allura beckoned for Pidge to follow. “Now we just need to take care of your shoes and hair.”

Lucky for her, Alteans were practical when it came to dancing shoes. Pidge could only imagine the havoc she’d cause in heels. She could probably take out Zarkon himself simply by accident.

Her hair though… Pidge frowned when Allura sat her in front of the large vanity. The decision to cut her hair short had been one of necessity, the Garrison would never have let her back in otherwise, but it was one she'd agonized over for a long time. She missed her long hair (though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like how easy it was to wash now).

“I don’t think there’s much you can do with my hair, princess,” she sighed, running her hand through it.

“Nonsense, it just needs the right accessory, ” Allura responded, grabbing a comb. She combed through Pidge’s hair quickly, teasing out a snarl or two before opening a drawer and pulling out something that looked suspiciously like a crown. “Remember,” she added, seeing Pidge’s mutinous look, “we’re trying to make a good impression.”

The crown - or rather, circlet - was placed atop Pidge’s head with minimum amounts of grumbling. It was a delicate thing of what appeared to be braided gold, with sparkly chains that looped down the side of her head a tickled her ears. Pidge examined herself and tried not to be too critical. With the addition of the circlet, her hair looked intentionally wild, rather than it’s usual “I just woke up after a night of tossing and turning” appearance. She looked… nice.

Allura told her to pick out one more accessory before leaving to change into her own dress. After a few minutes of indecision, the mice helped her choose and put on a green pendant hanging from a thin gold chain. Taking one last look in the mirror, she cocked her head toward the mice. "What do you think?”

The mice squeaked in approval.

She turned when she heard Allura walk back into the room. Instead of her usual blue and white ensemble, Allura was wearing an off the shoulder dress that swayed around her like a pink cloud. Her dexterous fingers pulled her masses of white hair into a low bun that fell to one side, allowing it to cascade over one shoulder. One crown, necklace, and several bracelets later, Allura grinned at Pidge. “Well, I think that’s everything.”

Pidge smiled back. “Those Lormai won’t know what hit them when they see you, princess.” _Or a certain black paladin…_ she thought with a chuckle.

* * *

 Allura walked ahead into the lounge where the boys were waiting. Pidge had a brief second to take in Shiro’s stunned face before Lance was blocking her view, bowing low in front of the princess. “You look astonishing, your highness,” he said, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. Pidge could feel Allura rolling her eyes.

Then Lance glanced at her.

She froze as his gaze lingered, blue eyes widening in amazement. He straightened slowly, allowing Pidge to take in how his blue doublet seemed a little tight around his shoulders and chest. Had his shoulders always been so broad?

“Wow… Pidge…” he finally breathed. Did Lance seem… flustered? His face was redder than usual, and his air of egotistical confidence was nowhere to be seen. He gulped and one hand flew up to scratch the back of his head. “You look good,” he said, a little too quickly to be entirely casual.

“You all look amazing,” Coran half-shouted, popping up out of nowhere and startling all of them. “But we need to get going. The Lormaitians don’t believe in being fashionably late.”

* * *

 Lance tugged at Hunk’s sleeve, a silent request for him to hang back while the others went ahead. He waited until the group had rounded a corner before groaning and leaning against the wall.

“Hunk. _I can’t_. She literally took my breath away.”

Hunk snickered, entirely unsympathetic.

* * *

 Pidge felt… small.  

The ballroom was larger and more grandiose than the one back in the Castle of Lions, with sweeping colonnades and glittering chandeliers that were hung with pearly white crystals. Even the buffet table, where Pidge was currently lurking, came up to her neck. Quite understandable, seeing as the Lormaitians were, on average, _over eight feet tall._ Pidge only caught glimpses of her fellow paladins in the crowd, and even then the Lormaitians’ bright clothing made it hard to distinguish them from the crowd. At least the food was good.

She was loading her plate with seconds when a voice murmured in her ear, “What’s up, Hermosa?”

Flailing in panic, Pidge turned so fast she almost bashed her elbow into Lance’s nose. “Don’t do that!” she hissed.

Lance held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry!” He gestured to the rest of the room. “Don’t feel like dancing?”

Pidge glanced up, up, and up at a passing Lormaitian. “I don’t think it’d work out too well,” she muttered. Lance laughed in agreement and pointed to the center of the room where Allura was talking with the Great Chief of Lormai. She was nearly nine feet tall, and even with Allura’s ability to shape-shift the princess barely made it to her shoulder.

“Yeah, their chief could crush my skull with her thighs and I’d thank her,” Lance sighed, fanning himself.

Pidge gagged. “Wow, there’s an image I’ll never get out of my head.”

They stood in silence for a little while, watching the crowd dance. After a few minutes, the music changed into something softer and slower.

Lance held out his hand. “Wanna dance?”

Pidge looked askance at the proffered hand. “I… what?”

He blushed a bit, unable to look at her. “I’m just saying, it’d be easier to dance with me since I’m not twice your size.”

She kept staring, and the more she stared the redder he got. Hesitantly, she slipped her smaller hand into his, watching with detached fascination as it was engulfed when he tightened his grip.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she admitted as he pulled her onto the dancefloor.

Lance’s cocky grin was back when she swung her around so they were face to face. “Don’t worry, the waltz is one of the easiest dances to learn.” His other hand fell to her waist and she could feel how warm it was through her dress, anchoring her to the moment. She took a deep breath and placed her free hand on his shoulder.

One more grin and Lance was leading her into the dance. Pidge quickly found that focusing on Lance’s movements rather than her own was a lot easier, and she fell into the rhythm of the song with relative ease. It was weird, being this close to someone else. They were almost chest to chest, and she could hear Lance’s steady breathing. The towering figures of their hopefully-soon-to-be allies seemed to fade into the fringes of their little bubble. This was surprisingly comfortable. She wouldn’t mind dancing like this for a while.

Then Lance switched things up.

She stumbled a bit when Lance let go of her waist and pulled away until they were stretched apart, connected only by his grip on her hand. He grinned at her wide-eyed expression before tugging her back. She instinctively curled into it and found herself with her back pressed against Lance’s chest, both of his arms wrapped around her waist. With a twist that left her slightly dizzy, they were back in their original position.

“What was that?” she demanded, clenching his upper arm.

Lance shrugged. “It’s part of the dance.”

The memory of his breath tickling the back of her neck percolated just under her skin. “Just warn me next time.”

When Lance chuckled the husky sound of it made her weak in the knees. “Okay, Hermosa.”

Pidge looked up at him, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but _wow._ His chocolate brown hair was slightly unkempt in a way that made her fingers itch to touch. She could feel his lean muscles flexing under her hands, a testament to the hours he’d spent training. More than anything though, it was the way he _danced_ that captured her gaze. He was so sure in his movements. Not the overconfidence that got him into so many scrapes, but the quiet confidence that came from experience and practice. The kind of confidence she could rely on.

His eyes met hers and she looked away, kicking herself angrily.

She’d always known he was attractive. Back and the Garrison he’d had admirers, and now as a paladin there were always some alien girls hanging around him when they were on a friendly planet. It was his cocky personality more than his looks that repulsed the smarter ones.

Smarter ones like Pidge, who knew better than to think these sort of thoughts about a teammate.

When the song ended she pulled away, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom.


	4. Cariño

When Pidge woke up with a sore back and an aching chest, she thought it was due to the rough skirmish they’d had yesterday with some Galra fighters. Green had taken a hard hit and Pidge was nearly flung out her seat by the force of it.

“Maybe I should install a seatbelt,” she muttered, sluggishly sitting up and getting out of bed. Once she was completely vertical, she became aware of a wet stickiness on her inner thighs. A dull throbbing pain was building in her lower abdomen.

She hurried over to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling down her pajama bottoms.

“Oh fuuuuuhhhhh…” she groaned as a large cramp sent her doubling over.

What was she supposed to do again? Her mom had told her about periods when she was twelve, but that had been three years ago. She hadn’t really worried about it, even when all of her other friends started getting theirs. The Holt women were late bloomers according to her mother. But her mother wasn’t here. Her mother was all alone, probably devastated by the loss of her entire family, while she was out in the middle of space with no idea how to handle her first period.

Another wave of cramps rolled through her and she burst into sobs.

* * *

  
Allura was the one who came to check on her when she missed breakfast ( _thank goodness_ ). One explanation of the human menstrual cycle later found Pidge taking a hot shower while Allura found painkillers and something she said would work as a sanitary pad.

Pidge finished washing her hair and positioned herself so that the jet of hot water was hitting her lower back. Maybe she could just stay here for a week…

She heard Allura reenter the bathroom and vaguely saw her place something on the counter through the frosted glass of the shower door. “I’ve left the breakfast tray on your desk. You shouldn’t take these pain repressors on an empty stomach.” There was a pause. “Also… those trash sculptures you made are very nice, but do they need to stay in your room? They seem to take up a lot of space, especially Lance’s-”

“I’m not moving them!” Pidge snapped, her voice harsher than she’d intended. She winced and immediately apologized. “Sorry Allura, I’m not… feeling so good.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Allura replied. “You just focus on feeling better.” There was more rustling and then she was gone. Pidge let her head rest against the shower door, the cool glass on her forehead providing a wonderful contrast to the hot water on her back. She stayed like that until the blue and green trash aliens she’d adopted floated into the bathroom and bumped against the sink.

* * *

 

“What’s wrong, Pidge?”

Pidge opened one eye. She was face to face with a very worried Lance. After her shower, she’d dragged herself to the lounge and flopped on one of the couches. The painkillers were finally kicking in, leaving her in an uncharacteristically mellow disposition. “Hmm?” she asked.

Lance knelt down next to the couch, and now that she was paying attention she saw Hunk hovering nearby.

“The princess said you weren’t feeling well. Are you sick?” Lance asked, placing a hand on her forehead.

Pidge slowly shook her head. “I’m technically okay. I’ve just got… cramps,” she finished lamely, her face reddening. Lance and Hunk both frowned.

“That sucks, can we get you anything? Painkillers? A snack?” Hunk asked. “I could probably make something that tastes like chocolate.”

Lance looked at him sharply. “Chocolate? And you never mentioned this before?” he demanded.

Pidge giggled softly. “That’d be great, Hunk. Allura already got me pain medicine, so I’m feeling pretty okay right now.” A yawn escaped her and she snuggled further into the couch cushions. “I think I just want to lie here for the day. No, wait…” She sat up a bit, then stopped when she felt gravity taking effect. “Can one of you get my datapad? I forgot it in my room.”

Lance was on his feet before she’d finished her sentence. “No problem, I’ll be right back.”

The boys left and Pidge settled back down. Her eyes fluttered shut and she had almost lulled herself into a nap when Lance returned, datapad in tow along with a blanket and what looked like a small blue pillow. She allowed him to drape the blanket over her, her curiosity piqued when she saw him take the pillow and fold it in half twice. When he gently arranged it between the small of her back and the couch she sighed with pure pleasure. The pillow was _heated_.

Grinning at her dopey expression, Lance sat on the edge of the couch. “Cool right? Coran gave it to me after we visited that ice planet.” They both shivered at the memory. Yetis might be a myth on Earth, but they definitely existed on Yukek-4.

Lance pulled out his own datapad and started playing a game, scooting back into the cushions and rearranging Pidge’s legs so her feet were resting on his lap.

Pidge found herself observing him, taking in the relaxed curve of his brow and way his long legs were sprawled out. He looked different like this. She’d seen him excited, upset, worried, frustrated, annoyed, tired, gloomy, surprised, and disgusted, but never… content? Yes, that was it. Lance was always moving forward in one way or another, always striving for some goal, ambitious and impatient, never happy with where he was currently at. Now though, he seemed perfectly satisfied to just sit here with her.

He caught her staring. “You can take a nap you know.”

Scoffing slightly, Pidge nudged his stomach lightly with a toe. “And let you eat all the chocolate? Forget it.”

Lance snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “My nefarious plans have been foiled yet again.”

“Step up your game, you’re getting predictable.”

Lance’s offended gasp was worth the twinges in her stomach when she laughed.

* * *

 

The day passed quietly enough. Allura had decided to everyone the day off, so there were no training sessions or strategy meetings to worry about. Shiro and Allura came to check on her a few times, and Hunk came back as promised with treats that were basically chocolate (Pidge ended up eating most of them in one go). Coran wanted to perform a few tests, but that would mean getting up and standing for long periods of time so he was shooed out of the room.

Lance hardly left her side. Pidge mentioned once that he didn’t have to spend his day off with her and he looked a little sheepish.

“Sorry, is this my cue to leave you alone?”

Pidge opened her mouth, but nothing came to mind. Truth be told, she liked his company. His presence was comforting, and even when they went for nearly an hour in companionable silence the knowledge that she wasn’t alone kept her from thinking too much about how much she missed her family. She settled for hooking a leg around his waist. “Nah, you can stay.”

His smile was dazzling and did stupid things to her stupid heart.

* * *

 

Lance had gone to get more painkillers from Coran when the door to the lounge whooshed open, revealing a dearly missed friend.

“KEITH!” Pidge practically shrieked, bolting upright and holding out her arms. Keith smiled and rushed to give her a hug.

“Hey Pidge, what’s going on?” he asked when she’d finished squeezing him as hard as she could. His eyes roved over the little nest she’d built on the couch.

Pidge sighed and settled back into a relaxed sitting position. “Cramps.”

“Cramps? Oh… Sucks to be you.”

Pidge swiped at him and he easily dodged.

“What about you?” she asked, taking in the bags under Keith’s eyes and paler than normal skin. His smile faded and he shrugged noncommittally.

“Eh, we’ve been busy,” he said, shifting just enough so the glowing purple lines on his suit were clearly visible. He brightened a bit the next moment. “But I get to spend a couple of days with you guys. Kolivan wants to talk strategy with the princess.”

“Great, I’ve been saving up all my mullet jokes.”

Keith and Pidge turned to look at Lance as he swaggered in. He handed Pidge her painkillers and a water packet before gently bumping his shoulder against Keith’s. “Good to see you, buddy.” Without further ado he flopped back onto the couch, scooting over to get closer to Pidge. Keith’s purple eyes flickered between the two of them, but neither of them noticed.

“Do you know where Shiro is?” he finally asked.

Pidge sucked up the last bit of water before shrugging. “Probably wherever Allura is,” she muttered, stretching like a cat to relieve her sore back. Lance pouted at this, and Keith side-eyed her suspiciously. After a moment Keith shrugged and left, presumably to find Shiro.

* * *

 

Keith almost missed it. Just as the door was sliding shut he heard Pidge say, “Thanks for getting the pills.”

But then Lance said, “No problem, Cariño.”

He stared at the closed door, his eyes wide.

Cariño?

_Cariño?!_

* * *

 

He found Hunk first, holed away in the Yellow Lion’s hangar. They taller boy lifted up his safety glasses and beamed.

“Keith!”

Even with a few seconds to prepare, Keith was still blown away by the rib-cracking hug he got. It was a shock to his system in all honesty. He hadn’t gotten a hug since… well, the last group hug that Hunk had initiated.  

They spent the next few minutes catching up (Hunk was a _glutton_ for gossip and highly curious about the Blade of Marmora) before Keith eventually asked, “So… when did Lance and Pidge start dating?”

Hunk looked up from a small communication device he was fiddling with. “They’re not dating,” he said, even as his face twisted into an expression of exasperation.

Keith pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “But they were cuddling on the couch.”

“I know.”

“Lance called her ‘Cariño’.”

Hunk groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I know. Trust me. I know.” Inhaling deeply, he pressed his palms together and pointed in the general direction of the lounge. “Listen, Lance figured out that Pidge doesn’t know a lick of Spanish so he’s been calling her all sorts of nicknames that she doesn’t understand.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “That’s stupid… and kinda weird.”

“I know!” Hunk half-yelled, happy to finally have someone to commiserate with. After a moment his brow furrowed and his tone turned sober. “I get it though. Lance doesn’t do anything by halves. He likes Pidge, _a lot,_ but he’s had… some unfortunate experiences. And I think he’s also worried about what it could happen to the team if things go badly between them.”

Ah, Keith could understand that well enough.

“Not to mention he has this stupid notion that he has to prove himself, even though I’m ninety-five percent sure Pidge has a crush on him,” Hunk continued, picking up a wrench and getting back to his device.

Keith raised an eyebrow at this. “Ninety-five percent?”

Hunk waggled the wrench at him. “You didn’t see them dancing last week.”


	5. Mi Cielita

It was common knowledge that Allura, Hunk, and Lance were the biggest snoops and gossips in the galaxy.

Still, if Pidge was being honest, Lance was the least frightening member of the Gossip Trio. While his curiosity often went beyond the bounds of decency, he never went _too_ far. He didn’t rummage through backpacks and closets like Hunk, and unlike Allura, he didn’t have a band of space mice at his beck and call to sneak around and spy on people. He understood, for the most part, the need for boundaries and usually knocked before entering another person’s room.

Usually.

Pidge was feeding her trash aliens (turns out they actually enjoyed food goo) when the door whooshed open and Lance rushed into her room. He slammed his palms against the mattress, leaning forward until his nose was almost touching hers.

“Pidge!” he exclaimed, eyes wild.

Pidge pressed a palm to his chest and slowly pushed him away before answering. “Yeah?”

“How long have we been in space?”

A few seconds ticked by, but no answer came to mind. It was hard to concentrate when Lance was so _close_ and his eyes were clinging to her like a lifeline. “I- I don’t-” she stuttered and that obviously didn’t help at all because now his lips were pressed into a thin line and- was he actually trembling?!

Pidge closed her eyes and counted to three, which was enough to clear her head. “I mean, the ship has a log. You can look there.”

Lance’s deep exhale ruffled her bangs just enough to tickle. When she opened her eyes again his shoulders had drooped and the trembling had stopped. His gaze met hers for the briefest moment before he looked away, his face turning tomato red.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right, you’re a genius. I just got worried I guess. I mean, I’d been keeping track of how long it’s been since, you know, we found Blue, and I was doing pretty good for a few months but I realized just now that I’d lost track of how much time had passed and-” He paused to breathe, which was good because Pidge was sure he was closer to passing out than he’d like to admit. He suddenly jerked away, standing up straight and crossing his arms.

“Sorry, that was silly,” he said with a smile.

Goosebumps prickled up Pidge’s arms.

That smile was _so fake_.

Pidge had never been all that good at interacting with something she couldn’t build from scratch, but even she could see how insincere Lance was being right now. There was a tightness to his grin, a plastic rigidity that set her teeth on edge, and his eyes lacked that cheerful spark that kept the team going through tough missions. She could see his fingers digging into his jacket, clenched so fiercely they almost looked like claws.

He reminded her of her old music box. Katie’s mother had given her one for her seventh birthday. She’d adored it so much that she carried it with her everywhere, insisted on playing it over and over and over until Matt complained and her parents told her to keep it in her room. One day, in a fit of scientific curiosity, she’d wound up the key as far it could go until it wouldn’t turn anymore and the box wheezed in protest. Not content, seven-year-old Katie gripped the box tight with one hand and wrenched the key with all the strength she could muster. She’d never forgotten the sharp _snap_ that echoed around her room, or the cold, sinking feeling in her gut as she gazed at the broken key in her hand.

Lance headed toward the door, still smiling that awful smile. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Lance-”

The door whooshed shut.

* * *

 

Hunk made flan for dessert that evening. Pidge barely lifted her eyes off her plate until she’d finished her slice. Allura, a bit more dignified, paused to breathe between bites. “This flahn is incredible, Hunk,” she complimented, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

Coran waved his fork at Hunk. “You humans have the strangest food,” he mumbled around a bite, “but I can’t deny that it tastes good.”

Hunk handed him another slice. “Kaltenecker helped out, I don’t think I could have made it without milk.” He pointed to Pidge. “Easily the best purchase ever.”

“Free with purchase,” Pidge reminded him, her eyes flitting towards Lance. His slice lay uneaten, picked to bits by his fork. He didn’t seem as tense as he’d been that morning, but she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. If anything he seemed to be more lethargic than relaxed, his normally lively actions weighed down. She wondered if anyone else noticed how subdued he’d been all day; if anyone else had seen how distant he’d been.

He must have felt her staring because he looked up for a few seconds. When Pidge didn’t look away he coughed and left the table.

She was still trying to piece everything together as she rose and took her empty plate to the kitchen. Hunk followed her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have made the flan,” Hunk mumbled under his breath. He started washing his plate.

Pidge shook her head. “Are you kidding? It was great.”

Hunk exhaled loudly, unhappily. “I made it for Lance, but I think it only made things worse.” He caught Pidge’s inquisitive look. “He’s homesick. That’s why he’s been down all day. I thought making one of his mom’s recipes might cheer him up. Look’s like it did the opposite.”

A cold stone settled in Pidge’s stomach. She could only imagine how Lance was feeling right now. It wasn’t like she wasn’t homesick herself, but she had her brother and father to find; a mission to keep her focused on the here and now. Lance’s situation was completely different. Everything Lance truly loved was back on Earth.

If Lance wasn’t a Paladin, would he stay?

If he had known what was going to happen that night, would he have snuck out of the Garrison?

_Probably not._

It was a lonesome realization.  

                                               

* * *

 

She found him in the control room. He’d opened up one of the star maps and… oh. Her breath hitched at the sight of Earth. Maybe she wasn’t as focused as she thought.

Lance’s back was to her, and he didn’t seem to hear her as she walked in. She’d almost reached him when he jumped and whipped around to look at her. Frightened blue eyes locked onto her brown ones and this time Pidge looked away first. She heard him exhale slowly, saw the tired dip in his shoulders as he turned back toward the map.

“I miss home.”

He said it so quietly. It hardly qualified as a whisper.

Pidge’s hands were reaching out to him before she knew what was going on. They wrapped around his waist and she rested her forehead between his shoulder blades. From there she could feel his soft shudders as he breathed.

“I miss the ocean and my abuela. One of my nieces turned three a few months ago. I checked the log like you said, and we’ve been gone for almost a year.”

Wow. It really was hard to keep track of time in space. It didn’t feel like a year had passed, yet somehow Pidge was relieved that it hadn’t been longer.

Lance sniffed and rubbed his nose. “I miss Earth food. I miss my mom’s flan, and greasy fast food. I think I miss rice the most though.” His chuckle cracked in the middle. She felt his chest expand, getting ready to say something else, but after a moment he deflated and leaned against her.  

“I miss Earth too,” Pidge finally mumbled.

Lance went as taut as a bowstring under her. “I… quiznack. Of course I had to focus on _me_.”

Pidge loosened her grip just enough so that she could get a good look at his face. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Lance-”

“Allura and Coran have it worse; I mean, at least I have a home to go back to. And I didn’t even think about you. We’ve still got to find your family-”

Pidge slapped a hand over his mouth and they both flinched. Pidge because she realized she’d been too rough and Lance because _ouch_ , that had to sting. It was enough to make one of the tears clinging to his eyelashes fall on her hand.

Oh well, in for a penny… Taking a deep breath, Pidge cupped his face with both hands. His dark skin was warm to the touch and she could feel the beginnings of stubble rubbing against her palms.

“Lance,” she began, trying to come up with something comforting and reasonable, something her dad would say. “We’re all homesick. There’s no escaping it. But feeling guilty about it won’t help in the long run. Comparing our situations, trying to figure out who has the right to… to feel sad is stupid.”

Ugh, that ugly fake grin was back. “Yeah, you’re right. I should-”

“You should quiznacking listen!” Pidge growled. “We’re a team, and we need to support each other. If you’re homesick, that’s okay! You’re allowed to feel sad, you’re allowed to grieve. We’re not going to judge you for wanting to see your family again. Do we think any less of Shiro when he has his nightmares?”

Lance’s head shot up. “No, of course not.”

“What about when Hunk loses his temper and goes passive aggressive on our asses?”

“Hunk is an angel, and I won’t stand by and let you slander his good name.”

“And Keith? When he decides he’s had enough and just walks out in the middle of diplomatic meetings?”

“Keith and diplomacy don’t exactly go hand in hand,” Lance snorted.

Pidge cocked her head. “And what about when I’m tired and grumpy, as say stuff I don’t mean?”

Lance’s eyes softened immediately, his lips curving into an incredibly fond smile. “The price of genius, I guess,” he murmured.

Fighting down a blush because _now was not the time_ , she let one of her hands slip to his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“We’ve all got flaws and vulnerabilities, and that’s okay because we help each other as best we can, all of us.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulders shook. With a sharp gasp, he pulled her into a proper hug. “Man, what would I do without you, mi cielita?” he whispered into her hair. Pidge would have replied with a snarky comment, something along the lines of how she practically carried this team, but the lump in her throat was too big.

_What would she do without Lance?_

They clung to each other so long Pidge could feel their hearts synchronizing.


	6. Mi Amada

“Pidge, this is getting ridiculous.”

Twitching slightly, Pidge looked up from her screen for the first time in two vargas. Lance glared at her, one hip cocked against the giant dining table. He made an elaborate show of looking at his wrist - which, for the record, was laughable because he wasn’t wearing a watch.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, reaching for the nearest source of space-caffeine.

Lance snatched her coffee cup away.

Okay, so maybe this was the third all-nighter she’d pulled in a row. Maybe the naps she took during the day weren’t cutting it. Maayyybe she should go to sleep for more than, like, a varga. But she was _so close_ to finding Matt. She could feel it in her bones. It didn’t really matter if her eyes were bloodshot and her body ached from sitting in one place for who knows how long if she could just _find him_.

Running a free hand through his hair (which, to Pidge’s vindictive delight, was almost long enough for her and Keith to start making mullet jokes), Lance regarded her scowl with little sympathy. “You’re gonna crash if you don’t get some sleep.”

“I’m fine, Lance.”

“If Shiro knew what you were doing-”

“He wants to find Matt as much as I do!” Pidge half-shouted, losing the scrap of patience she’d been clinging to.

His expression softening, Lance peered over her shoulder at the screen. “Found anything?”

“Maybe. Some idiot keeps interrupting me.”

Lance pouted, actual hurt flashing in his eyes before he peered into her coffee cup. “Wow, do you drink anything other than black coffee?”

Speaking of which, she really needed a sip. Her intention was to smack Lance’s midriff with one hand to knock him off guard while the other grabbed her cup, but her exhausted brain somehow mixed up the order and she ended up just flailing in his general direction. He chuckled and held the cup high above his head.

“I hate you,” she mumbled against his jacket.

“Why? I’m a delightful person.”

Pidge just grunted. Screw coffee, she’d had so much already she could probably stay awake for another few days…

“What if you crash during an emergency? What if we can’t form Voltron?”

Quiznak. He had a point. She looked back at her screen and sighed. “I get it, alright? I’ll only be a few more doboshes and then-”

Lance grabbed her elbow, pulling her up from the dining table. “Nuh uh. I have tons of younger cousins, not to mention a niece and nephew. That’s not gonna work on me.”

Pidge yanked free and sat back down, folding her arms stubbornly. “I said just a few doboshes, Lance. You’re not my dad!”

Dad. She had to find him too, and unlike Matt, he’d disappeared without a trace.

She didn’t know she’d started crying until Lance gently wiped at her cheek with his thumb. Burying her face in her hands, Pidge curled in on herself. Maybe it was Lance’s teary confession a few days ago that set everything off. The need to find her family, that awful ache in her chest, had only grown until she’d reached a state of near panic. So she’d retreated into her work, because if she was doing something then the need to scream and crumble into bits disappeared for a while.

Her whole body shook so hard she thought she might fly into millions of pieces. But Lance wrapped his arms around her, holding her together as she quietly sobbed into his shirt.

“I don’t hate you,” Pidge muttered, her voice thick with snot and tears.

“I know.”

“It’s just- …I’m so close.”

“I know.”

“I miss them.”

His grip tightened and she felt Lance shudder. “…I know, mi amada. I know.”

* * *

 

Pidge woke up in her own bed a full ten hours later. Her shoes had been taken off and placed at the foot of the bed, her glasses rested on the nightstand. Beside them was a note from Lance telling her to “sleep in, or I’m telling Shiro”.

She groaned long and loud into her pillow.

Last night had been embarrassing, to say the least. Not because she’d gotten snot all over her teammate, but because Lance had seen her fail to take the advice she’d so pompously given to him only days before. He must think she was such a hypocrite.

After a while she drifted off into a restless doze for another hour, finally getting up when Hunk tapped on her door and told her lunch was ready. Panic, that familiar nemesis, strangled her throat when she walked back to the dining room. Had Lance told anyone? Should she tell anyone?

Lance wasn’t there when she sat down at the table but Shiro looked at her thoughtfully.

“Lance said you were really tired this morning, how are you feeling?” he asked.

Pidge stabbed her goo a little too forcefully. “I just had trouble falling asleep. I’m fine now,” she croaked. Shiro raised an eyebrow but let her be.

It wasn’t until Hunk sat down on her other side that she worked up the courage to ask where Lance was.

“Huh? Oh, he already ate.”

Pidge forced herself to swallow. “Right…”


	7. Mi Reina

Shiro glanced over at the princess for what felt like the hundredth time in the past five doboshes. Allura was hunched over, her cupped hands held close to her face so she better hear what the mice were squeaking. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her like that, but the shock and giddy joy on her face made him curious… and somewhat apprehensive. He walked across the control room, and as he got closer he picked up bits and pieces.

“Are you sure? …Never would have expected… and Pidge doesn’t… That’s-”

The princess suddenly became aware of Shiro’s presence and whirled around. Shiro took a step back as her voluminous hair nearly flew into his face. The four mice glared at him.

He coughed. “Sorry, Princess. We just received a message from Jambat-8, they’d like to talk to us about joining the Coalition.”

Allura grinned that dazzling grin of hers. “Wonderful! Jambat-8 is well known for its medicinal herbs, I hope we can convince them to trade with other planets in need of aid.” She dashed to the main control screen and started typing in coordinates. After a few ticks, she paused, whispered something to the mice, went back to her task. The smallest mouse jumped down to the floor and scampered across the room.

* * *

 

Pidge leaned forward in her seat on one of the couches, doing her best to pay attention as Allura explained their next mission. It was hard to concentrate though, mostly because Lance was sitting right next to her.

Things had been… not awkward, _different_ after their mutual meltdowns. It was… Pidge didn’t know what it was. There was a tension, a sense of being connected that she couldn’t understand; as if she and Lance were tied together by an invisible wire that thrummed with energy whenever they were close.

Lance shifted, his knee brushing against hers, and Pidge nearly swallowed her tongue. Her eyes met Hunk’s for a brief instant and he raised an eyebrow in silent curiosity. She shook her head and tried to refocus on Allura, but she’d already missed the first half of briefing and had no idea what they were talking about. Something about medicine?

She heard the door behind her slide open and Hunk perked up. “Keith!”

Cue spontaneous group hug.

“Kolivan said you needed my help, Princess?” Keith asked once he’d caught his breath.

The Princess nodded and gestured back to the map of the planet she’d been describing. “Yes, we’re going on a diplomatic mission to Jambat-8 and I thought having a representative from the Blade of Marmora would be beneficial,” she explained, motioning for everyone to sit down again. Pidge jumped at the opportunity to sit next to Hunk and Shiro, leaving the other couch to Keith and Lance.

“The ruling council of Jambat-8 has agreed to speak with us about joining the Coalition, but since the Jambatians are a democratic people I believe it would be best for some of us to be out and about making a good impression amongst the citizens. Additionally, we’ve been given permission to gather medicinal herbs from one of their forests.” Allura fiddled with her screen and the hologram changed from a map of the planet to several alien plants. “Jambatian herbs are quite potent, so even a small stock would help many.”

Shiro nodded in agreement. “I think it would be best to split up into pairs. Two of us should speak to the leaders-”

Hunk interrupted him. “Well, that should be you and the princess. I mean, you’re the Black Paladin, she’s the leader of the Coalition…” he trailed off, and Keith spoke up.

“Right, Hunk and I will go talk to the citizens-”

“Which leaves Lance and Pidge to gather the herbs,” Allura finished, her smile a tad too cheerful.

Pidge looked at the three of them in surprise. They were usually very respectful when Shiro was talking. Shiro seemed surprised too, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he regarded them. Hunk squirmed.

“Ohhh-kay, it’s settled,” Shiro finally said, standing up and folding his arms. “What’s our ETA, Princess?”

“Two vargas,” Allura replied primly, avoiding his searching gaze at all cost.

Pidge didn’t like the way Keith and Hunk kept glancing at her. She jumped to her feet and pulled out her datapad. “I’m gonna see if I can make a scanner for the plants,” she mumbled, rushing out of the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lance smile. “Great idea, Pidge.”

Her brain short-circuited for a good ten seconds.

* * *

 

“I gotta admit, this planet is pretty cool.”

Pidge looked up from her scanner just in time to see Lance reach up and grab a large vermillion flower hanging from a purple vine. The forest - or rather, jungle - was a veritable kaleidoscope of bright colors that clashed together beautifully and blended with the lilac sky above. Even the thick moss under their feet was a harmonious patchwork of browns and greens.

“It is pretty,” she admitted.

Lance looked at her for a moment, then thrust the flower towards her. “Here, mi reina,” he said, looking somewhat flushed.

Pidge blinked in surprise… and held up the scanner. It beeped twice and flashed red. “This isn’t one of the plants,” she said, side-stepping him and consulting her map. She heard Lance sigh behind her.

“It looks like most of the plants will be close to water,” she informed him, pointing off to her left. “There’s a stream close by over there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance muttered, picking up the two containers they’d brought with them. One of them was to hold the herbs, and the other contained a picnic lunch made by Hunk. When Pidge had pointed out that she and Lance probably wouldn’t be long, he’d very firmly insisted on them taking it “just in case”.

It took less than ten minutes for them to reach the stream, Pidge leading the way while Lance trailed behind. As they emerged from the trees the paladins stopped to admire the view. The water was clear and deep and swift, cascading over rocks and roots on its journey. Several deer-like creatures drinking on the opposite bank looked up as the humans approached and quickly melted back into the forest. Cocking her head, Pidge could just hear what sounded like a waterfall in the distance.  

“We should go for a swim,” Lance said, perking up a bit.

Pidge rolled her eyes and started scanning the banks of the stream, the device pinging several times as the correct plants were spotted. “We’ve got a job to do.”

“I mean _after_ we get the plants, obviously,” Lance snarked, opening up the empty container while Pidge crouched down to collect some herbs. “We could swim for a bit, have lunch, and then head back.” Lance bent over until his face was level with hers, expression pleading. “ _C'mooonnn!_ It’s been forever. The last time I got to swim was when Hunk and me rescued that mermaid planet, remember?”

“Hunk and I,” Pidge corrected. Oh yes, she’d heard _plenty_ about Lance’s adventure with those mermaids. She ripped up a few herbs with unnecessary vigor.

“Pleeeeeease?” Lance begged, his eyes wide and bottom lip wobbly.

Once upon a time, she could have resisted that goofy face... It would be a shame to waste Hunk’s food.

Pidge groaned and threw her head back. “Fine!”

Lance whooped and jumped to his feet, taking a few moments to dance in excitement. “The sooner we get these plants the sooner you can swim,” she reminded him pointedly. Lance got the message and within five minutes the storage container was filled to bursting with the medicinal herbs.

Pidge allowed Lance to pull her to her feet and lead her upstream. They rounded a bend and saw a twenty-foot waterfall with a subsequent pool at its base. Lance set the containers down on a large, mossy ledge and placed his hands on his hips, surveying the scene gleefully.

“Uhh… we don’t have swimsuits,” Pidge realized aloud, trying not to blush at the thought of an obvious alternative.

Lance waved her concern away. “We can just take off our armor and boots. These undersuits make pretty good wetsuits.” That said, he stripped his arm guards and tugged the chest plate up and off. Pidge couldn’t help but stare as he unclipped his belt before sitting down to pull off his leg guards. The black undersuit was… form fitting and Lance had the slimmest hips and longest legs she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing-

Blushing furiously, Pidge turned her back on him and took off her armor as quickly as her shaking hands would allow. She heard a yell and a splash as Lance jumped into the water but waited until she was barefoot and relatively calm before daring to look behind her.

Geez, he was fast. Pidge barely had time to make out his form diving for the bottom before he zipped towards the waterfall, disappearing beneath the foam and white water. She quickly padded to the edge of the pool and dipped a foot in. It was cold enough to send a shiver up her spine. Her toes scrunched at the moss for a moment before he huffed and jumped in.

It wasn’t deep at the edges of the pool so she pushed off the bottom and resurfaced, teeth chattering from the chill. She wiped her bangs back, blinking around for Lance. He’d been underwater for a long time…

When he popped up just in front of the waterfall she released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He paddled over to her, grinning like a fool. “Isn’t this great?” he panted, circling around her.

“It’s cold,” Pidge complained, rubbing her arms.

Lance snorted. “Well yeah, you’ve gotta move around and warm up.” His hand shot out and flicked the tip of her nose. “Tag!” Pidge squeaked indignantly as he dived back into the water.

She gave chase, but it was apparent after two minutes that she’d never catch him unless he wanted her to. Every time he was within arms reach he would twist out of range, graceful as a dolphin and just as playful. Pidge, no slouch herself, could only admire his speed and strength. No wonder the Blue Lion had chosen him at first, Lance was clearly in his element.

Pidge finally gave up and clung to a ledge overhang, tired but not as cold as she’d been before. She heard Lance swim closer and felt the current from his feet as he treaded water. One of her hands dug into the muddy bank. _Time to play dirty._

“Give up?” Lane taunted.

Pidge smirked at him. “Not yet.” Her hand whipped out, lobbing a clump of mud at his face. He screamed as it splattered over his nose and eyes. Pidge lunged for him, but Lance’s reflexes were as superb as ever and even as he was wiping at his face he was swimming out of her reach. The waterfall caught her eye, giving her an idea.

Before Lance could catch on to what she was doing, she swam behind the waterfall and hopped onto a small ledge that had been scooped out of the rock by years of erosion. Why chase Lance when she could make him look for her?

She settled into a comfortable cross-legged position and watched Lance’s blurry silhouette through the curtain of water. He rubbed his eyes and looked around for few moments before disappearing beneath the surface. Pidge shivered and rubbed her hands together. It was dark and cool in the little alcove. The mist from the rushing water drifted over in a cloudy blanket and settled on her exposed skin.

Lance reappeared after half a minute, still looking around. Pidge stifled a giggle as he waded over to check on their armor. “That was a dirty trick, Pidge!” he yelled, placing his hands on his hips. “C'mon out, you little gremlin!” He dived back into the water.

Pidge's snickers grew in volume as he disappeared and reappeared several times over the next few minutes. Not once did he think to check behind the waterfall.

“Pidge?” Lance’s voice cracked in the middle and Pidge quieted. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “This isn’t funny anymore. Pidge, where are you?!” Lance sounded frantic.

She didn't mean to scare him. Leaning forward, Pidge guiltily reached one hand through the waterfall and waved at him. “I’m right here.”

Lance whipped around to look. He made a running leap into the pool and Pidge snatched her hand back two seconds later when he popped up right in front of her. He pushed his bangs back, glaring at her. “What’s the big idea?” he demanded. “I thought you’d gotten stuck at the bottom, or something just carried you off.”

Pidge had to take a moment to think because Lance was _right there_. Taking a deep breath she flicked the tip of his nose. “Tag.”

Lance gaped at her. His shoulders began to shake and for a moment Pidge thought she’d messed up royally.

Then the dork started laughing. He gripped the ledge on either side of Pidge’s legs, unintentionally and effectively trapping her as he doubled over. This vexing, brilliant, beautiful boy was laughing so hard she couldn’t tell if his cheeks were wet with water or his own tears. Like everything else, he put his whole heart into it. His warm chuckles echoed in the tiny cave. When he leaned back, still too close for comfort, Pidge could see water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.

She was in love with this boy.

Pidge inhaled sharply and twisted her head into her shoulder. She hoped it was too dark for him to see her clearly because if he did there would be no hiding it. He’d see the way her heart was trying to leap out of her chest, the way her breath caught in her throat, the desperate desire to grab him and _never let go_ that was making her tremble.

She hadn’t planned on this. She’d never intended for this overconfident cargo pilot to worm his way so deeply into her heart. But he had, and he didn’t even know it. Pidge was left with only herself to blame.

He was inching closer now, his brow furrowed. “Pidge?”

Pidge faced him, leaning forward in an unexpected bout of courage until their faces were mere inches apart. Lance’s eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. All it would take was one nudge, one press of her lips against his and he’d know everything.

She jerked back. Lance took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Pidge didn’t want him to know. How could she admit to being the fool that had fallen for the biggest flirt in the universe? A flirt who, aside from being head over heels in love with Allura, obviously saw her as nothing more than a friend - maybe even a little sister, which was infinitely worse.

Lance opened his eyes and stared at her, his gaze flitting to her mouth. “Me haces tan feliz,” he murmured.

What was that supposed to mean? Pidge had barely gotten used to his weird nicknames, and now he was spouting out sentences?!

“Pidge, I-”

Lance’s stomach rumbled. Loudly.

He flushed with embarrassment, glancing down at his midriff. “Guess it’s lunchtime, huh?” he squeaked, backing up to give Pidge some room.

Pidge nodded and jumped into the pool. Lunch sounded good right about now.

* * *

 

“How do you think their date’s going?” Hunk asked, trying not to wince when a Jambatian child tugged at his headband and a good chunk of his hair.

Keith shrugged. “Is it a date?” he whispered back.

“Obviously!”

The two boys nearly jumped out of their skins when Allura appeared behind. She reached down to pick up another child and swing him onto her shoulders. “Surely those two aren’t _that_ dense,” she muttered, waving at the Jambatians as they crowded around her.

Hunk rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised.”


	8. Mi Alma

Pidge waited until she and Matt were safely inside the Green Lion before she punched his shoulder as hard as she could.

“Ow! What the hell, Pidge?!” Matt yelped, rubbing his arm.

Ripping her helmet off, Pidge rubbed at her eyes. “Why the _hell_ do you have a _grave_ , you asshole?!” she shrieked. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw it? I thought I was too late! I thought you were dead and- and- and it was my fault! I didn’t- I couldn’t-” Her face burned and she couldn’t stop the fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Every emotion she had repressed, every doubt and fear and hope that she’d pushed aside in favor of being productive and focused bubbled up to the surface. Matt had been missing, then he’d died, and now he was alive and it had all happened way too fast.

Matt pulled her in for a hug and it felt _so good_. Just being able to hold him, feel him breathing and knowing he was _safe and here_ was enough to quiet her sobs into watery hiccups.

* * *

 

Matt was immediately smitten with Allura.

Lance was jealous.

So was Pidge.

* * *

 

Coran got an earworm, literally. It was weird.

When Pidge rewatched their performance, she might have lingered on Loverboy Lance.

* * *

 

Hunk held a fork laden with a chunk of goo out to Pidge. She obediently took a bite and chewed slowly. “What’s this supposed to be?” she asked. It tasted sweet, but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint the flavor.

“Banana custard,” Hunk replied, deflating a bit. “Does it not taste like it?”

“I mean, it’s sweet?” Pidge shrugged, hopping onto the kitchen counter and sprawling across it. They actually had some downtime today. No missions, no shows, no training. Shiro and Allura had been holed up in the map room with Kolivan for hours.

Hunk nudged her. “Hey, don’t contaminate the cooking area. Go lay on the table.”

Feeling impish, Pidge rolled onto her stomach and licked the counter, leaving a long strip of saliva in her wake. Hunk yelped in protest and grabbed a spoon. Giggling, Pidge rolled off the counter and ran out of the kitchen before Hunk could whack her.

Left with nothing to do, Pidge wandered over to the training deck. Maybe wrecking a few droids would help her blow off some steam. As she approached the door she heard sounds of combat from the other side.

Who was training? Lance? Pidge pressed the side panel and the doors slide open, revealing Lance and… Matt? She watched open-mouthed as the two circled each other, Matt with his quarterstaff and Lance with an Altean bo staff. Lance lunged forward, swinging his staff up. Matt blocked, twisted, and smacked the back of the younger man’s leg so hard that Lance yelled and dropped to one knee.

“Don’t leave you legs unguarded,” Matt instructed, not sounding sorry at all.

Lance glared at him and got to his feet. He barely had a second to get into a fighting stance before Matt attacked with an overhead swing. Lance parried just in time, the impact making a loud CRACK that echoed through the room. For a few seconds, they were at a stalemate, both of them trying to push the other back. Lance disengaged and ducked. One of his long legs swept out, catching Matt’s ankle.

Matt stumbled back but kept his footing. He grinned at Lance. “Smart thinking.” He looked over Lance’s shoulder and caught sight of Pidge. “Hey, Pidge!”

Pidge ran to hug him and Matt met her halfway. “When did you get here?” she demanded, a little breathless from excitement. Matt grinned sheepishly.

“Around thirty doboshes ago. I wanted to surprise you… but then I got lost. This castle is huge, I might need another tour.”

Lance gestured to Matt’s quarterstaff. “He’s been helping me with hand-to-hand combat. I’m good at long range, but not much else…” He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled a self-deprecating smile that didn’t sit well with Pidge.

“I wouldn’t say that. Seems to me like you just need more practice,” Matt countered. He looked down at Pidge, “Mind if we go one more round?”

Grimacing, Lance rubbed his knee. “I think I prefer the training bots, they’re nicer than you.” He glanced at Pidge and grinned slyly. “You’re not as mean as your sister, though.”

Matt nodded sagely, “It’s true. I’m the nice one.”

Pidge scowled and shoved her brother. He yelped and landed on his butt. “See?!” he whined, pointing at her.

Throwing her hands in the air, Pidge stalked towards the exit. “Whatever, you dorks have fun.”

Lance jogged up to her and blocked her path. “Aw, don’t be mad Pidge. I meant it in the best possible way.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

With a flourish, Lance pressed a hand to his heart and leaned in close. Pidge’s cheeks turned pink. “You’re the best, Pidge,” he said, his sincerity belying the exaggerated posture. “Eres la luz de mis ojos y el aire que respiro.”

Damn his sexy Spanish accent.

“Whatever,” she muttered as she pushed past him, because how was she supposed to respond to that?

She missed Lance’s hurt expression, and Matt’s confused one.

* * *

 

Pidge glanced up at the sound of her bedroom door sliding open. Matt picked his way through her cluttered room before he flopped down next to her on the bed. Pidge returned her attention to a robotics blueprint she’d stolen from a Galra warship a few weeks ago. She’d never be able to truly replace Rover, but Rover 2.0 was going to have a mini laser cannon if she got her way.

Matt glanced up at her. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said quietly.

“What?” Pidge forced herself to focus on her brother. “Oh, I knew you were teasing. Don’t worry.”

Matt leaned up on one elbow. “You sure? It seemed like you were pretty cheesed off with your boyfriend.”

Pidge spluttered in protest. “My _what?_!”

“Don’t deny it. I’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me sooner.” Matt was far from hurt if his waggling eyebrows and smug grin were anything to go by.

Pidge could _feel_ her ears catch on fire. She buried her face in her hands. “Matt, Lance is _not_ my boyfriend!” she hissed.

“I- …Are you sure?” Matt seemed nonplused by her extreme and genuine reaction. “He basically called you the light of his life.”

Pidge’s head shot up. “He’s never called me that,” she protested.

Matt pointed in the general direction of the hallway. “Well, he did just now… I think. I only took two years of Spanish.”

What?

_...What?!_

Pidge watched the blue trash alien floated over to the green one and gently nudged it. The green one squeaked happily.

Had… had Lance been flirting with her? This entire time? Why?!

“Pidge? Pidge, breath,” Matt commanded, gently shaking her shoulder.

Taking a shuddering breath, Pidge grabbed one of her pillows and hugged it to her chest. For a moment, hope flickered and sparked to life… it burned itself into cold ash rather quickly.

“Lance flirts with everyone, Matt. It doesn’t mean anything,” she muttered.

Even if Lance was flirting with her, it didn’t mean anything. He was Loverboy Lance, and the only girl he’d ever shown a vested interest in was a gorgeous alien princess. The only reason he paid Pidge any mind was because they were stuck on the same ship.

She felt the all too familiar sting of tears welling up. Were all of his nicknames just… offhand, meaningless gestures? She’d thought they were a sign that they’d grown closer as friends, and the thought of them being nothing more than throwaway lines hurt her more than it should. Everything about this mess hurt so much that it frightened her. A few months ago she could have laughed this off.

Lance was always getting himself into scrapes, but Pidge had gone given her heart to him with no hope of it being returned. Who was the real fool here?

* * *

 

She avoided him for as long as she could until dinner, and even then she sat as far away from him as possible without it looking suspicious.

It didn’t matter. He caught her in the hallway not two minutes after.

“Pidge, I’m sorry-” he began, his brow creased in concern.

“I knew you were teasing,” Pidge sighed, holding up a hand.

He crossed his arms, peering at her downturned face. “Yeah, but still… sometimes I don’t know when to stop, and you seemed upset. Lo siento, mi alma.”

Something snapped. A bitter, ugly, desperate feeling welled up inside, starting at Pidge’s broken heart and spreading to every part of her until it escaped through her clenched teeth.

“Will you _stop that?!_ ” she snarled, glaring up at those shocked blue eyes.

“Stop what?” Lance asked, taking a step back.

Pidge stalked forward, chest heaving, fists clenched, heart numb.

“Stop doing that stupid- _nickname thing_ or whatever! It’s not _funny_ anymore, Lance! It got old a long time ago. You really don’t know when to stop, do you? _Why can’t you just leave me alone already?!”_

"I-..." Lance drooped, his hands going slack at his sides. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor. His mouth opened and closed several times, until finally: “Sorry, Pidge.”

Pidge blinked. Oh quiznack, had she really said- _Why had she said that-_

Lance shuffled around her, his head turned away. She heard a door open and close behind her.

Pidge covered her mouth with both hands and screamed as hard as she could.


	9. Mi Vida

The next day Lance acted as if nothing had happened. He greeted Pidge with a smile, asked about her latest project, goofed around with Hunk, and later they teamed up with the mice to steal some tools for Rover 2.0. The balloon of tension in Pidge’s stomach slowly deflated; she should have known Lance wouldn’t hold a grudge. Unlike her, it wasn’t in his nature. There were differences though.

The nicknames were gone, for one thing. ~~Pidge missed them so much.~~

Their dynamic as Paladins had changed too. It wasn’t as if they were out of sync during training because they weren’t, and it wasn’t as if Pidge’s outburst had caused trouble when it came it forming Voltron - because they could still form Voltron just fine, thank you very much - it was just…

She wished Lance had reacted differently. He was being too casual about what had happened. Surely he must be confused, probably hurt, so why wasn’t he saying anything? ~~Why wasn't she saying anything?~~

It was the most obvious in their paladin bonds. Forming Voltron meant synchronizing the intentions of five people and putting aside all other thoughts. No other task, no other emotion, was more important than the mission at hand. With that said… everyone could feel the growing threat of dissonance between the Green and Red Paladins.

That string of energy she felt between her and Lance, their dynamic, was on the verge of becoming unstable. She was holding on too tight, he was letting go.

What she’d give to know what was going on inside his head.

It got to the point where Shiro pulled her aside after training. His crossed arms and air of brotherly concern ruffled her feathers immediately.

“Did something happened with you and Lance?” he asked, getting right to the point.

Pidge fiddled with her glasses. The team had barely managed to get settled as a unit after all the switching that had gone on, and now here she was messing it up again. “No,” she muttered.

“Pidge-”

“No, Shiro. Listen…” White hot shame trickled through her body. This was so embarrassing. “I know why you’re worried, but this- it’s me, okay? I’m just… working through something, this isn’t Lance’s fault.”

Poor Lance, who’d gotten an undeserved tongue-lashing because _she’d_ been petty and jealous. She was the one who’d made things weird by taking everything too seriously. 

But she had a plan! It was so simple she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before.

All she had to do was get over her crush.

She’d fallen in and out of crushes before without even realizing it, so how much easier would the whole ordeal be when she was actively focusing on the solution? It wasn't like the universe revolved around Lance, how hard could it be?

 Shiro sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I won’t pry, but I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.”

Yeah right. Pidge nodded absentmindedly.

When she got over her crush (because _that’s all it was_ , a simple crush) she’d tell Lance, because he deserved to know. They’d laugh about it, maybe even hug it out, Pidge would be a little embarrassed, Lance would tease her for forever and a day, and then everything would go back to normal. They’d be friends again. Good, good friends.

~~Her heart ached at the thought.~~

* * *

 

Naxzela was awful. Keith nearly dying then disappearing before they could knock some sense into him was awful. Lotor was awful. Not being able to find her father was _awful._

The worst part about this whole fiasco was that she _knew_ Lotor was a lying snake. He could not be trusted, and she was sure that any “help” was merely his way of lowering their guard so it would be easier to double-cross them. And yet, Shiro and Allura were just… going along with him. Even Hunk, sensible Hunk, wanted to take his side!

If nothing else, she and Lance were bonding over their hatred for Lotor.

* * *

 

Her father was back and Zarkon was dead. It felt like a second birthday.

“I’m so proud of you Katie,” her father murmured, hugging her as tight as he could.

* * *

 

Shiro was acting… odd. Pidge could feel something was off through the Paladin bond. The only time it felt right was when they all reached the astral plane on Olkari.

* * *

 

Lance clambered on top of the Galra soldier they’d… acquired for their makeshift joust. Pidge looked from him, a relatively lanky and squishable person, to Fun-bot (Hunk’s nickname for their new friend).

“…Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she muttered.

Lance scoffed. “Correction. This is the best idea.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over to Hunk and Fun-bot, “Ready guys?”

“Ready!”

“Affirmative.”

Pidge couldn’t help but roll her eyes. What a dork.

~~It wasn’t until after they’d blasted Fun-bot into space that Pidge realized hanging out with Lance felt _normal_ again. She was so happy she nearly cried.~~

* * *

 

“Slow down, Pidge! We just started breathing again,” Lance complained, elbowing Pidge gently. Pidge hip checked him back.

Allura nodded. “Pidge is right, we can’t afford to lose any time. The sooner we stop the infighting between the Galra the better.”

One of the control panels flashed red and beeped. Coran rushed over to it, tapping wildly. “There’s a Galra warship approaching!” he yelped, pulling an image onto the main screen. Everyone crowded around it.

“I can’t think of any Galra commander foolish enough or brave enough to willingly enter the Patrulian Zone,” Lotor muttered, more to himself than for the benefit of the group. His eyes went wide and he grimaced. “Unless- But how…?”

“Incoming transmission!” Coran announced.

The main screen went blank for a moment, then-

“Haggar!” Allura hissed.

The witch stared them down impassively. Lotor’s former generals were hovering in the background. Pidge glanced over at Lance and Hunk, they were just as confused as she was. How had they been tracked? Zarkon was dead so it couldn’t be the Black Lion.

 _“I’ve come to bargain,”_ Haggar began, her raspy voice crackling from the white hole interference.

“Never!” Lotor growled. Haggar merely raised an eyebrow.

_“We both wish to stabilize the Galra Empire, and we both know that unlimited quintessence is required to do so. Hand over all the information you have about Oriande, and I will willingly support your endeavors to unite the Galra under your rule.”_

“How does she know about Oriande?” Hunk whispered. Lance shushed him.

Allura was quivering with fury. “We will tell you nothing! You will _never_ set foot in Oriande!”

“You have nothing I want, witch,” Lotor continued. “I will bring peace to my people, and I will make sure you join your master soon enough.”

Haggar’s eyes narrowed. She turned her head slightly, looking at someone on her left. _“Proceed to Project Kuron Stage 5,”_ she said. There was a pause.

Shiro screamed.

The Paladins watched in horror as their leader collapsed to the ground, his prosthetic arm glowing so brightly it hurt Pidge’s eyes. He curled in on himself, twitching and writhing as his arm bent out of shape and grew, his fingers extending into claws. The metal crawled up his arm and shoulder, covering them completely and stopping only when it had reached the base of his neck. The whole time this was happening - How long? A minute? A few seconds? - Shiro screamed and screamed and _screamed._

Finally, _finally_ , he went quiet, his flesh hand covering his face as he gasped for breath.

Hunk and Allura rushed to his side. “Shiro?” Hunk gently placed a hand on his back.

“Shiro please, look at me,” Allura begged. Shiro didn’t respond. The princess glared up at Haggar. “What did you do to hi-?”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Shiro lashed out at Allura with his metal arm, knocking her against Coran and sending them both flying. Seconds later he grabbed Hunk by the collar and threw him at Lotor. Lotor dodged just in time (poor Hunk crashed into one of the chairs) and pulled out his sword. “Of course, always the puppetmaster,” he hissed.

Shiro(?) slowly rose to his feet, pushing back his white bangs to reveal his eyes. His golden, Galra eyes.

Pidge activated her Bayard. Whatever the witch had done, they had to restrain him and find a way to reverse it. She saw Lance activate his broadsword and shield before creeping to the left to flank him. Hopefully, Lotor could keep Shiro’s attention while they-

Shiro raised his arm high above his head before slamming it to the ground. It glowed a deep purple, and when it connected with the floor it sent out a shockwave that knocked Pidge off her feet and sent her tumbling until she slammed against the door. She quickly regained her footing and shook her head a few time. Ouch.

The sound of metal crashing against metal made her look up. Shiro was fending off both Lotor and Lance, somehow managing to keep up with their attacks despite his added bulk. Pidge aimed for his feet, waiting… waiting…

A quick blow to the gut made Lotor stumble, and Lance had to disengage for a few ticks to avoid being backhanded.

Pidge fired. The grappling hook tangled around Shiro’s legs, sending an electric current that ripped another yell from him and sent him to his knees. Lotor snarled and raised his sword high.

“Don’t!” Lance parried just in time. Lotor’s sword dug into the floor instead of Shiro’s neck.

Haggar smiled a thin, wicked smile high above them on the screen.

“He’s under her control, that’s how she found us. He’s a liability,” Lotor spat out.

Shiro swung out at Lance, clipping his shield and sending him reeling. Pidge dug her heels in and pulled, trying to pull Shiro off-balance again.

No dice, he was ready for her this time. He grabbed the cord and yanked, sending her crashing face first into the ground and her Bayard careening down the steps and firmly out of reach.

Between the ringing in her ears and taste of blood on her tongue, she barely had the wherewithal to get to her feet. Lotor swung at Shiro again, but this time Shiro managed to grab the blade, wrenching it from Lotor’s grasp and clenching his fist. When he released it the sword clattered to the ground, bent hopelessly out of shape.

Lance rammed against Shiro’s side with his shield, catching him by surprise. “Shiro, you have to fight this!” Lance panted, trying to look him in the eye. “Don’t let Haggar tell you what to do! I know you can fight her!”

The Black Paladin snarled, a low inhuman sound, and pushed back, shoving him off the main dais before grabbing Lotor and throwing him after Lance. Pidge looked around frantically for her Bayard, but she couldn’t see it.

Shiro was glaring at Pidge now. His hand glowed again, a ball of energy growing between his claws. It disturbingly reminded Pidge of the first Robeast they’d fought. He raised his hand towards her, palm first.

Pidge was able to dodge the first energy blast, and the second and the third and the fourth and the fifth. Each one left a small crater in the floor or the walls. The sixth just managed to clip her knee and send her spinning before she landed with an uncomfortable thud. She groaned softly and examined her leg. The armor had taken the brunt of the damage, but as to whether it could carry her weight… well, she didn’t have high hopes.

Shiro aimed the seventh bolt. Pidge squeezed her eyes shut.

“PIDGE!”

She was shoved, hard, to the side and she heard a pained “Uumph!”

The castle shook from Red’s furious roar.

Pidge stared at the place where she’d just been. The place where _Lance_ was lying prone with a charred hole in his breastplate.

“Lance…” she whimpered, dragging herself to his side. The force of the blow had caused the armor to buckle in, digging into his ribs and preventing him from taking more than small, wheezing breaths. Lance tried to grin at her.

“Shiro, stop!”

Allura was up, an ugly bruise forming on her temple. Her energy whip wrapped around his waist, pulling him back. He tried to fight back, but Allura was too strong, and she didn’t stop until she’d pulled him back to the main dais. “Coran, now!” She released him just as Coran slammed a hand against the control panel, trapping Shiro in a conical forcefield. He growled and snarled like a rabid dog, trying to break through but making no headway.

 _“If you want your Paladin back to the way he was, you will agree to my terms,”_ Haggar said. The screen went blank.

Lance coughed wetly, and Pidge panicked when she saw flecks of blood.

“Lance, why did you- _That was so stupid-_ ” she sobbed, trying to pull off his armor as gently as possible.

Lance bit his lip to keep from crying out. After a few moments, Pidge gave up and settled for syncing up her wrist scanner with his heartbeat. It was dangerously erratic.

“Better me than you, mi vida,” Lance murmured.

Pidge glared at him, blisteringly furious and utterly terrified. “No! Why would you _say that?_ ”

Coran hurried over to them and crouched by Lance’s side. His face paled, but his smile was nothing but cheerful. “Let me just get a stretcher, then it’s off to the healing pods for you, my lad,” he said, getting up and running for the main exit.

Lance coughed again and couldn’t stop coughing for a solid ten seconds. This time more blood came up, staining his chin and neck. When he finally caught his breath he blinked up at Pidge bleary-eyed. “There are two red paladins… but only one _you_ … Do the math, Pidge,” he choked out, grinning wryly.

“Lance, no, that’s not how this works!” Pidge wailed, grabbing one of his hands and pulling it to her cheek.

“Tell mamá I’m sorry… and… Pidge…”

Pidge shook her head wildly. “No. No. Stop talking like that-”

Lance continued doggedly. “I need to tell you…”

“You’re not going to die! Whatever it is can wait until you’re better.”

“Pidge… _please…_ ” He seized up for a moment, his body going rigid. The hand Pidge was holding became a vise, squeezing so hard she thought her fingers would pop off. After a few seconds, he went limp again, his eyes fluttering shut. His normally brown skin was turning ashy grey.  His heartbeat was slowing down.

“No! Lance, stay awake! _Stay awake!_ Coran!” Pidge looked toward the door. Coran wasn’t there. When she looked down at Lance again his eyes were open.

“Good, good. Okay, just stay awake. Go ahead and tell me what you were gonna say,” Pidge instructed. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, only that Lance had to stay awake.

Lance opened his mouth to speak but the only sound that came out was a pitiful wheeze. He stared at her, squeezed her hand (much softer this time) and tried to tell her something with his eyes and an unsteady grin. Pidge couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

~~His heart monitor flatlined, and then she knew.~~


	10. Mi Corazón

Lance was dead for two minutes and fourteen seconds.

Pidge’s screams summoned Allura, who abandoned her attempts to get through to Shiro and rushed to Lance’s side. She ripped the damaged chest plate off and placed her palm over his heart. A pink aura surrounded her, spiraling down her arm and enveloping Lance’s body. Coran reappeared with the stretcher and hugged a babbling Pidge tight while Allura worked.

Pidge couldn’t stop staring at those glassy blue eyes. She hated them, they were fake, where were Lance’s eyes? Why was Allura crouching over this lifeless doll when she should be trying to save Lance? _Where was her Lance?!_

Two minutes and fourteen seconds later the aura turned a bright blue, and Lance gasped for dear life. Once he was stable enough to be moved, Coran rushed him to a healing pod along with Hunk and Lotor, who both had nasty concussions. Shiro had been moved to a cryopod for the time being.

After examining Allura’s head and putting a brace on Pidge’s knee, Coran shooed them both to bed. Allura looked especially worn out; healing a dying Balmera was one thing, bringing someone back from the dead was another matter entirely.

* * *

 

Matt was sitting on the edge of Pidge’s bed when she woke up. He smiled wanly as she sat up, taking in her reddened eyes and miserable expression. There was nothing to say, so he hugged her and helped her hobble to the dining room.

Keith was there with Kolivan, Allura, and another Blade. Bloodshot eyes met glassy ones and Keith was lurching out of his seat to grab Pidge, hugging her so tight she was sure there’d be bruises later. Pidge felt her cheek dig into the zipper of his red jacket. He wasn’t wearing his Blade suit.

_Of course, dummy. We need a Black Paladin around._

“Keith, you’re going to suffocate her,” the unknown Blade scolded gently, walking toward them and placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith flinched and let go, allowing Pidge to take a good look at the stranger. She was tall (of course) with short, choppy hair, markings that curved along her cheeks and familiar purple eyes.

Keith looked from her to Pidge.  "Pidge, this is my… my mom,“ he muttered.

Had it been any other day Pidge’s jaw would have hit the floor. Any other day and she would have been asking a million questions. Today she could only stare blankly and swallow hard. Keith’s mother seemed to understand. Her gaze, while frightfully similar to that of her son’s, had decades of wisdom behind it.

Matt nudged her. "You should eat something.”

Pidge sat down, and Coran emerged from the kitchen a few ticks later with a tray of food. “I tweaked one of Hunk’s recipes, added some extra vitamins and all that,” he explained, placing a plate of goo before her. “Speaking of which, he and Lotor should be out of the pods in a few doboshes.” He hustled from the room, and Allura gave Pidge a quick hug before following him.

The goo was surprisingly edible. Hunk would be impressed.

* * *

 

Keith found her late in the afternoon. She’d grabbed a few blankets and pillows to make a nest in front of the healing pods. Anyone else would have tried to convince her to go back to bed, but Keith simply plopped down next to her and laid his head on her shoulder.

“How’s Shiro?” Pidge asked after a minute of silence.

A weary exhale. “Allura and Lotor are going over some ancient Altean texts. They want to get his prosthetic off, but whatever’s powering it could kill him if they try.”

Pidge patted his head. “Allura will find a way. And then Hunk and I can make him a new arm.” She brightened a little at the thought, pulling out her datapad to write down a few ideas. Perhaps she could make the new arm sound like a lightsaber when it was powered up…

“How long is Lance gonna be in there?” Keith nodded his head toward the healing pod in front of them. Pidge looked up.

By now all the bruises on his face and hands had faded, and the white suit covered his chest wound. Aside from the faint rising and falling of his chest Lance was completely still.

 _He’s alive though,_ Pidge reminded herself. _He’s alive, and as soon as he wakes up you’re gonna kick his stupid, self-sacrificial ass into the next star system._

“Coran said it’d be two more quintants,” she answered aloud.

A few more minutes passed. Keith fiddled with his shoelaces while Pidge drew up a rough schematic for Shiro’s new arm. Hunk would undoubtedly throw out most of it and completely rehaul the design, and Lance would make plenty of unhelpful suggestions along the way - once he woke up. Once he woke up they’d all figure out how to stop Haggar and the rest of the generals. Once he woke up… Once he woke up-

Keith lifted his head and studied Pidge, watched how tears dripped down her cheeks and nose. She could barely control her shaking shoulders as a loud sob ripped its way through her lungs.

“He’s such… an IDIOT!” she screamed, burying her face in her hands and pulling her knees up. The pressure of Keith’s hand on her back kept her grounded as she allowed herself to properly cry.

She cried because Lance had died thinking he’d done the right thing by sacrificing himself for her.

She cried because she’d fooled herself into thinking she could just get over him when in reality she’d done the exact opposite.

She cried and sobbed and fell apart because she loved him.

When there were no more tears and her stomach ached in protest Pidge allowed Keith to hand her one of the blankets; she rubbed at the snot dripping down her face until her nose burned.

“Keith… do you know Spanish?” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth quirked up for a second. “Yeah.”

Pidge’s red-rimmed eyes bored a hole in his head. “Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…” It took her a second to remember all of them. “What does ‘hermosa’ mean?”

“Beautiful.”

Her heart fluttered. Pidge didn’t bother trying to control it anymore.

“'Mi amada’?”

“My darling.”

“'Mi reina’?”

“My queen.”

“'Mi vida’?”

Keith glanced at the healing pod, “My life.”

Pidge stared hard at Lance’s passive face. “I’ve never heard him call Allura any of those,” she said slowly, allowing herself to hope even as guilt overcame her.

She was so... shallow.  How could she say she loved him - no, how could she even call herself his _friend_ when she’d presumed to think of Lance as a flirt and nothing more? She _knew_ him well enough by now to know that his cocky facade hid a sweet and passionate young man who was as insecure as any of them.

Well, if she was being fair it wasn’t as if Lance had made it obvious that… he…

Pidge inhaled so hard she nearly choked on her own breath. He’d danced with her and stayed by her side during that awful first day of cramps. Back in the forest, he’d tried to give her a… oh quiznack, that flower had been for _her_. He’d called her every lovely name under the sun and had given up his own life for her.

He night even love her.

Keith was grinning smugly. “And here I thought _I_ was the worst at noticing the obvious,” he chuckled. Pidge felt her ears burn and she punched his shoulder. He took it with good grace and gestured to her and Lance. “You two have been dancing around each other for months. It’s been painful to watch.”

She should have scowled, but Pidge couldn’t stop the delighted smile that made her cheeks ache. A reckless giddiness bubbled up from her stomach, making her lightheaded.

“Will you help me with something?” she asked. Keith eyed her warily. She was breathing heavily and there was a manic glint in her eyes that alarmed him.

“What is it?”

Pidge waved away his concern. “You’re right, we’re both dense, so I need to make sure Lance understands.”

“…Understands what?”

* * *

 

Lance woke up two quintants later. Hunk caught him when he fell from the healing pod while Pidge devoured him with her eyes, taking in every detail. His legs, while wobbly, seemed strong enough, and when he took that first deep breath he did so smoothly, no hint of his former injury making itself known. His eyes were clear and bright as he took in the team crowding around him. When his gaze settled on her she nearly spoiled her plan then and there.

As it was, she couldn’t stop the way her foot tapped in impatience while Lance had breakfast and was filled in on what had happened.

“Looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do,” he finally said, pushing away his empty plate.

Coran waggled his finger. “Not for you, not today in any case.”

“Coran is right, you should get some rest,” Allura agreed.

Lance made a few weak protests, but the team wasn’t having any of it so he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before wandering off toward his room. He didn’t notice Pidge following him until she grabbed his arm. His fingers tightened around hers without comment. The string of tension between them thrummed, battered and worn though it was.

“We need to talk,” Pidge said firmly.

Nodding slowly, Lance allowed her to guide him the rest of the way to his room. He punched in the code and waited for Pidge to enter before following and sitting on the edge of the bed. Pidge watched him clasp his hands together and rest his elbows on his knees. He seemed… braced for impact. Ready for Pidge to scold him, but that didn’t make _sense_ -

“I’m so quiznacking angry with you,” she blurted out.

Oops.

“Pidge-”

“You were _dead,_ Lance! And if Allura hadn’t brought you back you’d still be dead. _You died in my arms!_ ”

He flinched and finally had the decency to look her in the eye. His desolate expression almost broke Pidge’s resolve. She continued as best she could. “Do you have any idea what I’d do without you? I don’t care if there are a billion red paladins, we can’t lose you! You can’t do something like that again!”

Lance stuck his jaw out, a defiant gleam in his eyes. “I’d do it again,” he announced, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’ll do anything it takes to keep the people I care about safe, and I care about you, Pidge. I-” he broke off and looked away, rubbing his face with one hand.  

Pidge sighed and drew closer, so close that their feet nearly touched. He was staring at her again, his cheeks a rosy pink.

“I don’t think you understand. This isn’t just about you,” Pidge murmured.

Now was the time to say it. Lance’s full, bewildered attention was on her. It shouldn’t be hard. She’d practiced with Keith and Hunk until she could say it forward and backward.

Pidge opened her mouth. Lance leaned in a bit.

_And…_

She couldn’t do it. Not while she looked at him anyway. Her eyes glued themselves to the floor. The words, those were what mattered. She tried again, and this time she succeeded.

“Te amo, Lance. Tu eres mi corazón.”

Silence. Nothing but silence.

She barely had enough strength to lift her gaze.

Lance… Lance was staring at her. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, he was staring at her as if she was a sunset - beautiful and cherished. He swallowed and croaked out a tiny, “What?”

Pidge cupped his face with her hands, enjoying the feeling of stubble beneath her fingers. He hadn’t laughed or looked disgusted, and that was all Pidge had dared to hope for. “Te amo,” she repeated, and it was so easy the second time that she said it again.

“Te amo, te amo, te amo. So _much_ , Lance. Please don’t leave me again.”

His hands came up to lightly grab her wrists. He was breathing heavily, the beginnings of a delighted smile stealing over his features. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Pidge kissed him. It was short and sharp, and she nearly missed, but she managed to get the corner of his thin lips. Pulling back, she mock-glared at him. “How’s that for serious?”

Lance threw back his head and laughed. The delighted echoes resonated in Pidge’s overly full heart. Blinking up at her, his eyes misty with unshed tears, he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. Unprepared for such a gesture, Pidge wobbled and fell forward. Lance managed to catch her and she rearranged herself until she was straddling his legs.

“I love you too,” Lance whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. Pidge couldn’t stop the shiver of delight that coursed through her body. When Lance kissed her she gripped the back of his neck and clung to his shirt, determined to hang on even as he took her breath away. He eventually pulled away with a contented sigh.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he confessed.

Pidge hummed in agreement… and flicked his nose. “Well, maybe we could have done this sooner if _you_ hadn’t been so weird about it.”

“Me?!” Lance squawked.

Pidge crossed her arms and glared. “You flirt with every alien you can find-”

“I do n-! Well, not every-”

“-but you can’t even give me a compliment in my _own language,_ ” she hissed.

Lance groaned. “I know, I know. I just… didn’t think this,” he vaguely gestured to the two of them, “would ever happen. I mean, you’re way too good for me.” He held up a finger to stop her protestations. “It’s true. Plus we’re teammates, and I didn’t want to make things weird so I figured- I thought-… I don’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted, too flustered to look at her properly.

What a dork. Pidge kissed him soundly on the cheek. “Next time let me have a say before you make a crazy decision.”

He perked up a bit. “Next time? Are we dating? I mean, do you want to date? I dunno if you want me to be your boyfriend, but-” he stopped abruptly when Pidge placed her hand over his heart. She could feel it beating, strong and sure.

“I really want you to be my boyfriend. I really, really want that.”

Lance laughed again and pulled her in for a hug. “Good, I want that too.”

Pidge pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “And I want you to keep using those nicknames.”

His smile faltered a bit. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She kissed his nose, then his cheek, then his lips. “I never wanted you to stop, not really.”

Lance nodded and nuzzled against her cheek.

“On one condition: you have to tell me what they mean from now on.”


End file.
